


Forgive Those Who Trespass

by tryslora



Series: And Omega Makes Family [13]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alpha Derek, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alpha/Omega, Community: fullmoon_ficlet, Father-Son Relationship, M/M, Mpreg, Omega Jackson
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-29
Updated: 2013-06-29
Packaged: 2017-12-16 14:41:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,140
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/863170
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tryslora/pseuds/tryslora
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Jackson’s estranged father lies near death, Jackson goes to see him one last time.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Forgive Those Who Trespass

**Author's Note:**

> I wanted to do something with the Omega series this week, but wasn’t sure how to work things in for the Death prompt (#24 at fullmoon_ficlet), then this occurred to me. I’m so sorry for all the angst in an otherwise generally fluffy series! As always, I do not own the characters or world of Teen Wolf, I just love to write about them.

Jackson stands awkwardly on the front step of the house where he used to live. Derek’s hand at the small of his back is an anchor, a small point of heat that lets him focus. Coming back here reduces him to a child again, someone seeking approval from a man who will never give it.

A man who had a brush with death, and may not ever come back the same. If he truly comes back at all.

His jaw is tight, and he focuses instead on the child in his arms, bouncing slightly as Toby looks around. Derek reaches past him to ring the doorbell, and Jackson laughs dryly. “I probably still have a key. It might even be on the keyring in my pocket.”

Derek’s hand slides to his hip. “And it would look great for me to have my hand in your pocket when the door opens.” His words murmur against Jackson’s cheek. “So let’s just go with the doorbell. She knows you’re coming.”

“Yeah.” Jackson had called before they left their place, his second conversation with his mother in as many days, which was more than had happened in most of the last year.

Things are complicated, and this isn’t going to make it any better.

The door pulls open and she stands there. Jackson swallows tightly. “Mom.”

“Jackson.” She pulls him inside and holds his shoulders, kissing both cheeks before she pulls back to look at the child in his arms. “And this is…” she trails off awkwardly, looking from Toby to Derek and back to Jackson. She shakes her head. “I’m not sure…”

Jackson bites the inside of his cheeks hard, mouth pinched as he turns to hand Toby to Derek. “He’s here for me, not Dad,” he says tightly. “Don’t worry, I won’t say anything, and I’ll pretend everything’s perfect. Wouldn’t want to upset Dad’s worldview when he’s on his way out.”

“Jackson.” Derek’s voice is low, chastising. He touches Jackson’s wrist, but Jackson pulls away. This isn’t an alpha and omega moment. It isn’t even a pack alpha moment, and it sure as fuck isn’t a concerned dominant boyfriend moment.

“Don’t,” Jackson says quietly. “Not here and not now. Just wait while I go see him and say my goodbyes, that’s all.”

His mother catches his hand, squeezing gently. “It isn’t necessarily goodbye…”

He just looks at her, because in his mind, it is. He said goodbye a year ago when he tried to explain all the crazy things in his life, and they couldn’t accept it. Oh, it wasn’t that he was in a relationship with a man; his parents are open-minded. But being a werewolf, supernatural things, _pregnancy_ … “He called me a freak,” Jackson says quietly. “That’s not something that we’re going to come back from easily. And I know you’re thinking it. You can’t even say Toby’s _name_. That’s my son, mom. Your grandson, although it’s not by _blood_ , so you don’t have to love him. Nothing’s required.”

“Jackson, we _do_ love you.”

“Do you?” It’s something Jackson hasn’t believed ever since they finally confessed the truth of his status. He twists away and walks the familiar path to his father’s office. It’s the only room on the first floor that was easy to convert to a temporary sick room. Even knowing that, Jackson isn’t prepared for walking into it.

The smell hits him first, acrid and sharp to his werewolf nose. His expression wrinkles and he huffs out a breath, trying to shake off the medicinal and bleached scent. Underneath it all, he can smell the illness. He can hear the slightly off-center beat of his father’s heart, the way it stutters every few beats. He hears it speed up, hears that stutter quicken and the soft inhalation that comes with it.

“Jackson.”

“It’s amazing how well everyone here knows my name.” Jackson drops lazily into his father’s old desk chair, not far from the rented hospital bed. “Everyone keeps saying it and nothing else, like I’m supposed to _learn_ something from it. Yes, I get it, you named me Jackson. This tiny baby you were so desperate to have and _ignore_. Did you know, it hurt less when I thought you had me by accident?” He gives his father a look, jaw tight. “When I thought you couldn’t help it, but knowing you brought me home _on purpose_ and then walked out of my life again… that hurt. There was _nothing_ I could do that made you pay attention, and when I needed you, you threw me out for being a freak.”

“Did you bring him?” His father’s voice is hoarse and rough, and for the first time Jackson realizes that he looks old. Frail. No longer the strong man, he seems weak and trapped in that bed.

“Derek? Toby?” Jackson shrugs. “They’re both here.”

“I want to see him.” When Jackson doesn’t respond, his father’s voice strengthens. “Your son,” he clarifies. “My grandson.”

“Why?” Jackson fights to keep the hope from showing in his expression. He can hear footsteps, knows Derek has heard the request and is bringing their son. “You made your view completely clear—”

“Jackson.” Short and sharp, the tone rings in the small room and Jackson goes silent as his father coughs in the wake of being so emphatic. “I’m dying.”

“I know.” Jackson can’t look at him. “Mom told me that the heart attack was probably just a prelude. That they can’t really do anything.”

“And I want to see my son and my grandson.” 

This is going to undo him. When the door opens again, Jackson glances up, watches as Derek approaches his father and sits carefully on the edge of the bed, bringing Toby into range. His father reaches out, touches that baby soft skin, lets Toby grab his fingertip.

“He’s beautiful,” his father whispers, and Jackson hears it then, something he’s been seeking all along: pride.

He swallows to fight back tears. “He’s perfect,” he agrees.

“Are you happy?”

It’s a loaded question, because yes, he is, although they still have their negotiations sometimes. But his father can’t hear the nuances loaded into the simple reply. “Yes. I am. I wouldn’t give up Toby for the world.”

Derek snorts at the phrasing, and Jackson smirks faintly. They will discuss that, Jackson is sure, and he won’t mind the discussion at all. He enjoys their negotiations.

“I’m glad.” His father looks over at him, and he holds out his other hand. Jackson hesitates, then rolls the chair closer, reaching out to link his fingers with his father’s. “Stay with me for a while.”

Jackson nods quietly. “Yeah, dad. I’ll stay as long as you like.”

He can smell death lingering in the room, and he doesn’t think it will be long. But he’s needed, and for that, he will stay.


End file.
